


Promotions

by DraconicSeraphim



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Knotting, M/M, Male Lactation, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 20:38:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10171442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconicSeraphim/pseuds/DraconicSeraphim
Summary: It’s never been quite so regulated before but the enrollment rate at Illvermorny has been dwindling lower and lower. This past fall was the first time that a house did not accept a single student. It’s a startlingly dangerous realization.Kink meme fill in which MACUSA institutes a breeding program.





	

They’re pleased with his performance. It’s something that makes his heart skip a beat and he stands up a little straighter. He’s to be given something of a supervisory position as a reward for his dedication. 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” And he manages not to sound too much like an eager puppy, though Madam President still cocks a brow at his enthusiasm. There will be considerations, of course. Timing that will need to be managed, research that will need to be done, schedules to juggle and the whims of the few alphas they’ve managed to gather to attend to. He simply nods, pleased with the level of responsibility they’ve decided to allow him. There won’t be many omegas for him to assign tasks to, not just yet. It’s never been quite so regulated before but the enrollment rate at Illvermorny has been dwindling lower and lower. 

This past fall was the first time that a house did not accept a single student. It’s a startlingly dangerous realization.

He will have contacts with the satellite offices across New England. They will appoint a beta to handle liaisons between the larger regions but well… another omega will make the others more comfortable and they hope the others will take heart from his enthusiasm. It is not a curse, nothing to be so upset about,simply their natural function in society. There have been some that have spoken of romantic notions such as bonds and marriage. Absurd and impractical. Never mind that bonding hasn’t been seen since the middle ages but the number of omegas has gotten so low that it is truly impossible to allow fertile omegas to go too long between breedings. Not if they ever want their numbers to recover. 

Not that there are really all that many Alphas these days either. The traditional old bloodlines are much more reliable but squibs and betas have diluted the bloodlines of the wizarding world so much that it’s really a miracle they have enough left to even implement this program. 

He’d worried he’d come back from maternity leave and end up relegated back to brewing coffee, even if the entire breeding had been MACUSA’s idea in the first place. Here he was walking into a promotion. 

A promotion that was going to have a lot of work involved. They assured him that they were in the process of hiring on staff for the day care and that he would, of course, be encouraged to bring the 2 month old alpha boy with him. Letting the other omegas see his success to help encourage them to embrace this new role in their jobs, allowing their few alphas to see how fertile they could be in the hopes of encouraging further breeding. 

There would be changes but most would be slow. The new furniture additions to the alpha’s offices were the first of many changes and he blushed as he glanced to the smooth wooden bench that now occupied the corner behind the president’s desk. It was the same rich wood as the rest of the room, padded with thick leather dyed a blue so deep it was nearly black.

He left her office with a thick pile of papers, files on all of the alphas and omegas employed in the building, papers he set on the delicate iron shelf beneath the bassinet where his newborn son was sleeping. He’d need to feed the poor boy soon and, as though reading his mind (and truly he wasn’t sure if she was) the President stopped him halfway out the door. 

“Abernathy?” She smiled, casting a fond glance at the soft periwinkle blanket draped over the stroller. “You needn’t hide it. Seeing that you’re healthy enough to care for the boy will do the others good.” 

\-----

He hadn’t realized how quickly things would change. Queenie Goldstein, for example, had taken to spending extra time downstairs helping him file and manage the schedule just so she could coo and squeal at the baby. It worked out to be a good thing because he had a number of scheduling conflicts to work out that he had to attend to personally. He had to meet with everyone he had a file for, determine what the omega’s heat schedules were, find out who was best suited for whom. 

There was only so much he could do about personal preferences and he had, at least once in the past 2 days in his new role, had to break up an argument between omegas about who would be allowed to answer the request of the handsome young alpha that was leading the obliviation team these days. It had been something of a vicious cat fight and in the end it was Cecily that got to answer Sam’s request simply because she’d left scratches on Ruby’s face. 

So all in all Queenie was a godsend and he was once again leaving his son in her more than capable care as he headed down to the main offices where most of the department directors were. There were only three offices in this hall he needed to visit.

Liza Hardaway, the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation, who was a kind woman but of an age that she insisted she wouldn’t be much help. They couldn’t be sure of that, though, and Abernathy was certain to assure her that she still had every right to use the services of any omega she chooses. 

Across the hall from Ms. Hardaway was the Director of Registries. A position that the man holding it insisted was just a glorified list keeper. Even with his nonchalance at the importance of his own position Abernathy was, admittedly, eager to speak to him. Director Everhart was one of the newest members of MACUSA’s upper management. He was the youngest of the Directors, to be certain, quite handsome and soft spoken but with a firm precision that one had to respect. He was also the youngest registered Animagus in over a century and had a very strong French-Canadian lineage. Picquery was eager to introduce new blood lines to the slowly stagnating pool they were already pulling from and Abernathy had no doubt he was going to have fights to break up in regards to Tristan Everhart as well as Sam from Obliviation.

It was, perhaps, cowardice that had Abernathy hesitating in front of the last door, which was at the far end of the hall and would have been much more convenient to start with. He took a deep breath, raised his hand to knock on the door only to have it swing open half a second before he could. 

“Lawrence, please come in and stop worrying so loudly.” Graves’ voice was firm as always but there was the tiniest hint of softening at the corners of his mouth, like he might actually find the omega’s behavior amusing. That little tilt of his lips only made Abernathy blush harder as he stepped inside, adjusting the jacket of his suit as though it would make him appear more collected despite the scarlet dusting his cheeks now. Graves raised a brow and the door snapped shut behind him. 

He jumped, only slightly, but he jumped all the same and he was internally cursing himself for it when Graves stood from his desk. Abernathy’s breath hitched, catching around some lump of memory and scent in his chest when the alpha stepped around his desk, one hand coming up to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “How are you?” Just a touch softer, a little bit of concern for an omega with an infant and a lot of new responsibilities. It wasn’t as though there was anything more there and Abernathy hated that he had to remind himself of that.

“Lawrence?” And he absolutely despised the way his given name on Graves’ lips made him want to just sink to his knees and present himself for the other man. 

“Just fine, simply getting things in order.” His voice only shook a little and he didn’t remember closing his eyes but apparently he had because when he opened them again Graves was closer. Close enough that his scent made Abernathy dizzy. A side effect that he should make note of, perhaps. He wondered if it was just Graves, being such a powerful alpha from such a strong bloodline, or if it was because of their history. 

“And how is Lysander?” This time there was something almost warm in his tone, a hint of pride that made Abernathy smile despite himself. 

“Falling in love with Miss Goldstein, it seems. She’s been looking after him when I’m away from my desk.” 

Graves nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Not too often I hope? The boy needs his mother.”

“Of course.” Abernathy flushed a deeper shade of red. “Only for meetings, no more than an hour or two throughout the day. You’re actually the last for today and then I’ll be back downstairs.” He tried not to sound defensive, he was doing his best to juggle all of his new responsibilities and no one had questioned him on it yet. But of course Graves would be concerned over his son’s well-being before any nonsense about Abernathy’s duties to MACUSA. “He floated a towel off my shoulder and into his greedy little hands last night. Straight into the bathwater. It made drying him horribly difficult.” 

Despite the frustration he’d felt the night before there was nothing but pride in his voice now. Their little boy was already showing signs of magic. Barely 2 months old and moving objects. It was precisely what they’d hoped for with the arrangement. The true, if fleeting, smile that flashed across Graves’ face made Abernathy’s knees suddenly weak and his hand came up to grip the alpha’s chest to steady himself. 

It may have been a simple reaction or it may have been something more intentionally heartstopping but Grave’s arm immediately came to his waist, holding him closer until he could find his equilibrium again. How was he meant to do that with this man, this alpha, so close and powerful and safe. 

“That’s excellent news, Lawrence.” The words were little more than a rumble he could feel through his hand all the way up into his own chest. He let out a soft sigh, head lolling instinctively to one side, flashing a glimpse of the scar Graves had left a year ago on his shoulder. The alpha growled, soft and deep and Abernathy shivered despite himself.

Then, abruptly, there were teeth on his throat again, the hands on him turning harsh and demanding, pulling him in to arch against the alpha while he drew the pale skin of Abernathy’s throat between his teeth. Lawrence cried out softly, fingers clenching in the fabric of Graves’ suit even as the alpha relinquished his hold on the poor man’s throat, shifting instead to nuzzle into his neck breathing in the scent of omega. His omega, the base part of his brain insisted, untrue though it was the thought was still there. His or not he was an omega, sweet and now proven to be so very fertile, powerful, ripe for breeding again.

“Has your doctor released you to be covered again?” It took all of the will power Percival had to grind that question out against Abernathy’s jaw, teeth scraping over sensitive skin. If it wasn’t safe then he would tell Lawrence to go downstairs and send him Goldstein’s little sister. But Abernathy was here and warm and already beginning to smell of slick.

“Y-yes.” He managed to gasp out, stretching his head to the side, offering up more of his neck to his alpha. “Last week.”

“Good.” The word was in such a low register that Lawrence couldn’t process it for a moment. By the time he had the hands on his back had shifted to his front. A mumbled curse of a spell from Graves and his buttons all simply Vanished, letting his clothing fall open, his trousers only staying up by virtue of his suspenders. Before the omega could protest the abuse of his very carefully tailored suit, if not as finely made as Graves’, warm hands were smoothing up his sides, hot on his bare skin and he sucked in a breath. The heady rush of Graves’ scent only made him shudder and then one large hand slid up his chest.

He gasped softly, breathing out the other man’s name, meaning it to be more urgent, more of a warning. It came out breathless and wanting instead. Even now, with a young infant feeding regularly he would never pass for having breasts, exactly, but his chest was a little softer, a little rounder, and Percival’s fingers sought out the subtle changes despite the attempt to warn him off. His fingers came away damp and he growled softly in his chest, leaning down to nip at Lawrence’s bottom lip. 

“How long has it been since you fed our boy if you’re already so full?” Abernathy whimpered against the alpha’s lips as he spoke, the faint implication of a threat there in the growled question. Had it been too long? Should he have gone back downstairs before coming here to Graves’ office? Blue eyes darted around the office over Graves’ shoulder wildly before finding the clock on the desk. He sighed, relaxing, slumping against the other man. 

“Barely an hour now… he’s almost assuredly still napping.” Which was apparently the perfect answer because then Graves was gripping his sides, pulling him close even as he ducked his head, dragging the flat of his tongue over one sensitive nipple. Abernathy whined, squirming in his grip, his chest full and tender and the hot pressure of the alpha’s mouth was so much harsher than anything he’d felt in so long now. 

“Such a good little omega.” A rumbled purr against his chest and Lawrence could feel the slick between his thighs beginning to dampen his trousers. Then Graves’ lips sealed around his nipple, giving one good hard suck, the stubble of his shadow scrapping sensitive skin and the pressure of his mouth made the omega cry out. “Plenty for our boy.”

The praise made him shudder, pleased that the alpha appreciated what his body was capable of. It was a flaw that sometimes came along with male omegas, needing wet nurses because their own bodies weren’t as productive as a woman’s could be. Not always but it was common enough that it had been a concern. An unfounded one as Lawrence had found that he had more than enough, to the point of ruining his shirts throughout the day.

It was strange, feeling the alpha’s mouth on him after months of the constant gentle suckling of their son, simultaneously embarrassing and erotic. Graves lapped soothingly at his chest, shifting over to the other nipple to abuse it in the same manner, making Lawrence squirm, finally dragging himself out of the alpha’s hold with a breathless laugh. “Lysander needs those.” He protested, barely getting the words out before there were arms around him, the larger man using his height and strength to push Abernathy up against the edge of his desk. The lip of the desk fell just below his navel and with a firm hand on the back of his neck the omega folded himself over it, breath hitching as he recalled the last time he’d been in this exact position, Lysander already growing in his belly though they hadn’t known it at the time. 

“Percival.” And his fingers fumbled at his suspender clasps desperate to present himself to this man. He needn’t have worried about the suspenders because a moment later Graves’ hands were gripping the fabric of his trousers and yanking down hard enough that the suspenders gave, falling uselessly to the floor with most of the rest of his suit. Piling up against the edge of the desk beneath them. The fingers on his waist, clutching him just above where he bent over the desk, were strong and unforgiving. Lawrence whimpered, pushing up onto his toes to make his ass more accessible as Percival’s other hand stroked over the supple curve of his flesh. 

Those warm callused fingers fell away almost before the omega could enjoy the feeling but then he could hear the rustle of fabric as Percival fought to unfasten his own trousers single handedly. “Percival, please.” Lawrence whined, flexing his toes against the soles of his shoes, pushing himself up just a fraction more, weight wavering from one foot to another. The alpha behind him snarled, the sound resonating in his chest and his fingers digging crescent nail marks into the skin of his hip.

“So eager to be bred again, pretty?” The words were barely words, half panted with need and Percival ground himself against Lawrence’s thigh to show the omega just how eager he was to have him again. “Not even in your heat and look how wet you are.” To prove his point two strong, sure fingers swiped between his cheeks, gathering a thick smear of slick on his fingertips. 

The soft whimper and nod to the affirmative Lawrence meant to offer was stopped abruptly when Graves bent over the smaller man, still pinning him to the desk with one hand, the other coming up to coat his lips in his own slick, fingers pushing relentlessly against his mouth until he yielded, crying out softly before Percival was fucking his mouth. Lawrence moaned, lips closing tight around Percival’s fingers, sucking his fluids off the alpha’s fingers. 

Percival ground himself down against Lawrence, heedless of the mess he was making of his own trousers, briefly too dizzy with the scent of slick to really manage his buttons. Finally, after a long moment he wrenched himself back from the omega, panting and reaching to unfasten his trousers with shaky fingers that were still wet with slick and saliva. “It’s been like that since Lysander was born.” Lawrence murmured, voice distant and a little dreamy even as he spreads his feet apart and arches up, presenting himself as eagerly as he can. “The slick comes so easily now.”

And then, abruptly, Percival was on him again. 

Lawrence gasped, a sharp inhale that stuck in his throat and he morphed into a soft sob. He remembered this part so well, how suddenly he would be filled, Percival’s cock so thick, stretching him in a way that bordered on too much, too painful, but just a breath away from that. If he shifted it would hurt, he knew that, oh he remembered that sweet ache all too well. For a fleeting moment everything was still, Lawrence couldn’t breathe, his knuckles went white as he gripped the far edge of Graves’ desk, his legs trembling to hold the exact position he was in as both he and his alpha adjusted to the rush of sensation.

“Shhh…” Percival’s breath came out in stuttered sounds of reassurance as he came back to himself a little. As though, now that he was inside the fertile body beneath him, the desperate scream of his instincts faded so that he could savor the feeling of the willing omega spread out on his desk. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Lawrence relaxed bit by bit. Fingers uncurling to splay his hands flat on the desk, paying no mind to the documents he would surely ruin with his sweaty palms. As he relaxed the tight arch of his body, lowering himself from tiptoe to something more comfortable for his legs he also pressed back against Percival in the process.

Not that it mattered a moment later because he was shifted forward with one firm thrust, pens and papers, that cute little clock, and at least one ink pot clattering to the floor and Lawrence’s hips lifted until he couldn’t touch the floor anymore. He nearly screamed then, the sensation of Percival so deep within him again, one powerful thrust followed by another and another, slow but steady and enough to tear desperate sounds from the omega, each one scattering more and more of his work onto the floor. 

The hands gripping his hips adjusted their grip from holding him, actively suspending him off the ground to throwing him forward so he could grind him down against the lip of the desk. Percival laid himself over his back then, tongue eagerly finding that scar he’d left when they were trying for Lysander and licking a hot, messy line over it. “Fuck, Lawrence.” A growl in his ear and the omega whimpered, lolling his head to the side, offering up his throat even as he scrabbled at the edge of the desk lest he topple over it. Not that the solid press of Percival’s hips against his ass would have allowed him much room anyway.

“You’re just as perfect as I remembered.” That steady rhythm picked up a little, each thrust still enough to drive the breath from his lungs but coming faster now. “Gonna breed you again, pretty boy.” 

“Mmm yes.” Lawrence answered breathlessly, a smug smile flickering over his lips before he was gasping again. Graves had quite the filthy mouth on him once he got going, it was something that had entertained Lawrence endlessly last summer. Graves was always so collected and professional, hearing him devolve into a cursing desperate alpha was somehow so satisfying.

“That’s what you want isn’t it?” A harsh grunt as he slammed in particularly viciously and Lawrence cried out sharply, his cock rubbing uncomfortably against the edge of the desk but Percival touching something deep within him that left him trembling at the same time. “Another baby in you. Fucking gorgeous boy. Make you _mine_.”

Teeth closed over that sensitive point on his neck, something sharp and needy escaping Lawrence even as Percival snarled around his skin. “Keep you pregnant.” Ground out through his teeth, around the flesh he had clenched there. “Always.”

The onslaught of sensation was so intense Lawrence could barely recall how to breathe, pleasure crashing over him only enhanced by the fine edge of pain. The very idea of this powerful, confident man whom Lawrence had seen stare down some of the most terrifying criminals in the country with an easy calm that left even his own aurors unnerved losing that famed composure in the face of the sheer need he felt for Lawrence was a heady kind of power and the casual manhandling was proof of that. Percival Graves was a warrior at heart, certainly, but he was not a cruel man so each little jolt of pain, the grind of the desk low on his belly, the ache as Percival forced his body open for him, the sharp pain of teeth at his shoulder, was a reminder of how much he’d lost himself in Lawrence’s body and Lawrence thrilled to feel it.

“Made for this, weren’t you, pretty?” Another nip, this one harder than the previous ones and Lawrence jerked beneath the alpha. “Made to take my knot, have my babies.” 

“Y-yes.” Lawrence gasped out, the word a breathless whine and he tried to press back against Percival but he had nowhere to get any leverage. “Please.” He could feel the desperation in the alpha’s movements above him and it would not be long now. “Give me your knot, Percival.” He barely managed to get the words out, the weight of the other man above him making it difficult for him to take a full breath, let alone speak. 

“Goddamn pretty boy.” A snarl against his skin and Percival’s rhythm was utterly falling apart. One strong hand slid up under his chest, wrenching him back down onto Percival’s cock by his shoulder. “Gonna make you a momma again.” His fingers slid from shoulder down to chest, tweaking one nipple and growling in satisfaction as more milk dripped from it. Distantly Lawrence realized whatever papers had been left on the desk were likely wet with milk from his chest being pressed so firmly against the surface and he shuddered. 

“Please!” One last desperate cry and Lawrence could feel the telltale ache as Percival’s knot began to swell inside of him. The deep, unyielding pressure was enough to topple him over the edge, his come mixing with the damp patches of milk that marred the paperwork on Percival’s desk.

There was a fleeting, endorphin fueled moment of terror when Lawrence was certain someone was going to end up injured. Percival must have, somehow, had the presence of mind to summon a chair because he collapsed backward from the desk, falling into the chair with a grunt and Lawrence had no choice but to go with him. His feet didn’t touch the ground but briefly as he tumbled back on top of the alpha, whimpering as the motion and jostling pulled hard at the tight seal of Percival’s knot inside of him. As they collapsed into the chair Lawrence sank back on Percival with all of his weight and both of them cried out, Lawrence with a jolt of pain and Percival with a surge of pleasure as his knot worked impossibly deeper into the omega.

They stayed like that for a long moment, desperately trying to remember how to breathe, to let their heart rates come back down, to let Lawrence adjust to the fullness inside of him. Percival’s hand came around his waist, settling against the place where his belly was tight with the swell of his alpha’s seed. 

“Director Graves.” Calm and cool and Lawrence gasped and tried to look back over his own shoulder at Madam President standing in the doorway of Graves’ office. “I do believe the entire purpose of acquiring the breeding benches was to prevent incidents like this from happening.” A pointed look at the disaster that was Percival’s desk and Lawrence ducked his head, blushing violently. “Again.” Certainly not the first time, but definitely the messiest.

“Of course, Ma’am. I’ll do my best to remember that next time.” Graves said with a hint of smugness in his voice that Lawrence knew meant he was smirking at the president. The closest he would ever get to being insubordinate while still challenging Picquery once again. Old habits die hard and all that.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Lawrence offered, a flicker of a glare over his shoulder at Percival but he wasn’t sure if the alpha could see it. 

“Nonsense.” She said abruptly, stepping into the office and stroking a hand over Lawrence’s hair, heedless of how sweaty and mussed it was. “You were lovely, darling.” A kiss to his temple and as he blushed he could _feel_ the rumble of Percival’s growl against him. She stood and looked down on them, expression distant and cool and simply daring Graves to protest her touching the omega. 

It took a long, tense moment before Graves finally settled into the chair that, Lawrence now realized, the President had summoned for them. Picquery accepted his grudging submission with an incline of her head and she moved back to the doorway, giving them space. 

“Mr. Abernathy, I’d like you to schedule Miss Goldstein some afternoons with Director Graves. I believe his skills in occlumency and her natural talent as a legilimens would be a wise match.” 

Lawrence smiled, nodding his agreement. “I was actually thinking of that. She does have a heat coming in a few weeks.”

“Very good, make sure Graves has the dates so he can be certain to not take any new cases that will interfere.” Another challenge but one Percival simple scoffed and rolled his eyes to. Then the president was turning to leave the office, pausing halfway out the door to glance back with a slow smirk. “And Lawrence? I’d like to see you at lunch tomorrow. In my office.”

Lawrence blushed brightly but smiled and nodded his agreement, ignoring the way Percival tightened his grip around him and the soft rumble in the alpha’s chest.

With a nod she swirled away from the door, striding down the hall, past the bull pen where the aurors were working and clearly trying not to stare through the open door.

Percival scowled, flicking his wrist at the door, slamming it shut with a grumbled, “Oh, goddammit.”

**Author's Note:**

> I make no promises but I may end up doing a second part with Perce breeding Queenie if anyone is interested. Or possibly dragging some very fancy British lines into the gene pool via Newt & Theseus? Idk open to suggestions though


End file.
